On Turning Sixty-One
Fitzgerald’s last line,
longing rendered in
fourteen words, ode to
inevitability uttered
in any tongue. “So we beat
on” aching,
“boats against the current”
our urgent
she bu de!, she bu de!/
I can’t bear
to let go!, “borne back”
by music
in the Latin,
de mihi tempus/
give me more
time, echoing
“ceaselessly
into the past.”
Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 8:41 AM UTC
On Turning Sixty-One
Fitzgerald’s last line,
longing rendered in
fourteen words, ode to
inevitability uttered
in any tongue. “So we beat
on” aching,
“boats against the current”
our urgent
she bu de!, she bu de!/
I can’t bear
to let go!, “borne back”
by music
in the Latin,
de mihi tempus/
give me more
time, echoing
“ceaselessly
into the past.”
